


In This Shaken, Twisted World

by edanasis



Series: Battleship Fandom [4]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Tokyo Ghoul
Genre: Angst, BAMF Harry, Death Eaters, Female Harry Potter, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Ghouls, Harriet has had enough, Protective Remus Lupin, Remus Feels, weird crossover
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-30
Updated: 2017-06-30
Packaged: 2018-11-21 14:33:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,444
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11359431
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/edanasis/pseuds/edanasis
Summary: She refuses to let anyone else die; not when she knows she can save them.It's time she showed them what a real monster looks like.





	In This Shaken, Twisted World

**Author's Note:**

> The brief confrontation in the beginning is just a flashback to end of third year, for anyone who is confused :|

_ “If you’re not supposed to be a teacher here because of your ‘condition’, then I’m obviously not welcome as a student, either!”  _

 

_ She glares at him fiercely, eyes burning with unshed tears and indignance, and it takes all of his concentration to bring his slack jaw back under control and blurt, “What?” He’s horrified, because a certain thought just occurred to him, and he doesn’t even want to consider the possibility of it.  _

 

_ She crosses her arms. “If you’re a monster, then I’m a monster, too!”  _

 

_ “Harriet, what in blazes are you talking about?” He chokes and lurches around the desk, amber gaze frantically searching for any signs of injury. “Oh god, are you--oh,  _ god, _ did I--” _

 

_ Her nose wrinkles in confusion, and then clears in surprised understanding. “No, no! You didn’t hurt me! I’m not a werewolf!”  _

 

_ Remus nearly collapses where he’s standing from the sudden onslaught of relief, and pulls her into a tight, strained hug. “Thank.. Thank Merlin. I don’t know what I’d do if I..”  _

 

_ Harriet hugs him back, her grip weak and hesitant, and it’s noticeable enough for him to pull away again and look down at her in confusion. “I’m not a werewolf,” she repeats in a mumble, eyes downcast. “Not a werewolf. I’m--I’m a ghoul.”  _

 

\-----

 

_ Ah _ , Harriet grimaces, eyes sliding shut.  _ So this is when my secret comes out. _

 

It’s a shame, she thinks, that she isn’t able to keep it to herself until her final battle. She lurches forward and doubles over, even though the man is too strong for her to simply push away from (not like this). She vaguely wishes, just for a moment, that she could have hidden her secret longer, but then promptly squashes that train of thought with a wild flash of anger. Her friends aren’t worth sacrificing just to see the look of shock on Voldemort’s face. Her family isn’t worth that. They’re worth more, so much more, and it’s for them that she takes a deep breath and slips the veil around her heart and throws her ace onto the table for all to see. 

 

Her kagune rips through her captor like an eager child on Christmas morning, opening their presents with glee. Like he’s nothing more than the wrapping around the package. Blood drips and splatters across her legs, up her dress, but she no longer cares and lets the body slip from her kagune and fall to the ground with a stomach-wrenching squelch. 

 

The silence is thick and sudden, then, as even the Death Eaters freeze in horror. Clearly they weren’t expecting this turn of events, Harriet cackles in her mind. A real  _ monster _ , imagine that! She’s a bit unsteady on her feet and stumbles twice before righting herself. The arms of her kagune (all six of them, bloody hell she’s grown another??) snap and twist around her. They’re almost impatient, hungry, and she hums and tilts her head up to survey the field swarming with enemies. 

 

Many gasp at the sight of her black and red eyes and the dark, inhuman veins running visibly under the skin of her cheekbones. She doesn’t know whether they’re gasps more of fear or surprise, but she revels in them all the same and runs her tongue over her canines. This,  _ this  _ is her.  _ This  _ is who she is. 

 

Finally.

 

She bares her teeth in a rancid smile. 

 

“You were saying?” she purrs, although it may sound like more of a snarl, and even Bellatrix draws back with a hiss. Harriet can smell the fear on the vile woman. “I’ll kill you all, no questions asked, no holding back!”

 

One of them panics and flicks a beam of red light at her, and in that instant, she  _ lunges _ .

 

She’s faster than them, stronger than them, and tearing them apart is simple and so, so viciously satisfying. She goes for Bellatrix first, because this is who Sirius was killed by, this is the woman from whom Sirius died to protect his goddaughter. Her kagune impales itself through the woman’s stomach without a second thought. Bellatrix screeches and wails and claws at her, wand lost into the tall grass, but Harriet’s only reaction is to simply split her in two by her midsection. The Death Eater holding the child is next and he dies even faster than Bella did. 

 

It’s a bit disappointing. 

 

Then curses and hexes take over and everything’s in a panic again, and Harriet has to dodge twice as much. Her kagune is strong and near impenetrable, and she can use it to block most lighter spells, though it hurts and she would rather just avoid them. But that’s okay, because the energy is flowing through her again, and it’s something she’s so sorely missed that she’s willing to push herself that extra bit and indulge in the strength that thrums just under her skin. 

 

“Harriet!” Someone screams, but she’s already leaping high into the air to avoid the green light of the killing curse. She’s not a fool; she knows she can’t use her kagune against that. She does have her limits, unfortunately. So she jumps and twists and darts towards the one who sent the curse and sneers as two arms of her kagune bite into his flesh with their sharp, sharp tips. 

 

It’s almost like a dance, and as she slips around an ally and appears behind their foe she wants to throw her head back and laugh. She doesn’t enjoy killing; she never has. But it’s something she’s good at (too good, too good at being bad to really be a good person anymore) and she’ll do it when it’s necessary to protect those whom she loves. 

 

Even those she isn’t supposed to love, or those who don’t love her back. It’s a grim prospect to admit to herself, and she can’t help the ironic sigh that spills from her lips as she tackles and ensnares someone who’d been creeping up behind Snape. His dark eyes widen when he sees her and, no matter how much of a spy he is, it seems he can’t stop the way his mouth opens in--fright? No, probably not, Snape doesn’t really get frightened, does he? Harriet muses over this while chasing after the next two attackers, taking them both down at once by digging her claws and teeth into one and her kagune into the other. 

 

They taste foul and rotten. Harriet’s face twists and she quickly spits the meat out. Maybe it’s the taint of Dark magic? 

 

And then, out of nowhere, something large and snarling and hot slams into her side and sends her tumbling across the grass. It’s heavier than she is and manages to get its claws around her arms, pinning her down. With a triumphant howl it sinks its teeth into her shoulder, jerking and tearing flesh and tendons and right into the bone, and Harriet screams and snarls and hisses in pain and fury. 

 

Fenrir Greyback is a foul, disgusting, vulgar beast and she loathes him, hates the very sight of him, hateshates _ hates _ \--

 

“ _ Reducto! _ ” Someone shouts, and the werewolf is blasted away into a nearby tree. Harriet is up and rushing after him the moment his weight is off of her, ignoring the frantic call of her name, and Fenrir barely has the time to meet her gaze and see the bloodlust lurking within them before she descends upon the beast and  _ rips him into shreds because how dare he even touch her _ .

 

Only when she deems him sufficiently torn apart does she rise and inspect her shoulder. It’s healing nicely, and she thanks her lucky stars (probably Sirius still watching over her, she thinks with a painful jolt in her chest) that ghouls are immune to such curses. 

 

She spits a glob of blood out onto the ground. She doesn’t know whose it is, and she doesn’t know if she really  _ wants  _ to know, either. 

 

Harriet looks up, red irises hunting for more victims, and realizes that there are none. Any remaining Death Eaters must have fled, or else she and the others have… Incapacitated them all. Her kagune arms shudder in something akin to disappointment.

 

“ _ Harriet! _ ” 

 

The voice hits her like a bucket of icy water and she frantically reaches within herself, tugging the veil back in place, and nearly collapses when her kagune grudgingly recedes. 

 

Someone drops to their knees beside her and she blinks tiredly when they drag her into their arms. It’s Remus. She relaxes, finally, and sinks into his embrace, her grip on his robes feeble but insistent.

 

“‘Re you ‘kay?” She mumbles, and her other Godfather lets out an incredulous laugh. 

 

“Am  _ I _ okay? You just battled close to thirty Death Eaters in full ghoul form, got mauled by Fenrir Greyback, and you’re asking  _ me _ if  _ I’m _ okay?” He hugs her tighter, if possible, and she notices the shaking in his arms.

 

Harriet smiles sheepishly. “I’m healing. You? The others?” She makes a face, “You’re more.. Squishy.” 

 

Someone behind her snorts quietly. “Of course your vocabulary is so elementary that you would refer to mortality levels as ‘squishy’.” 

 

She doesn’t have to turn around to know it’s Snape, and though she pouts she doesn’t want to turn and look at him, because  _ now he knows, now he’s seen her _ . Before he’d only been able to suspect, only caught the brief glimpse of a memory before she’d shoved him out of her mind as hard as she’d could. (That was the last day she’d shown up for Occlumency training, and from then on she’d finished learning from Remus.) “At least mine includes the words ‘thank you’,” she mutters, but there’s no heat behind her words. She can’t bring herself to be angry with him for seeing her, because not only was it her choice to shift but it also isn’t his fault she’d needed to.

 

More footsteps come pounding across the field and then Ron and Hermione are right there, hovering, wearing twin looks of worry mixed with relief. Harriet faintly hears Snape walk away.

 

“Bloody hell, Harry, you really shook us up with that transformation,” Ron exclaims. Hermione nods vigorously. “Even Mad-Eye couldn’t help but stare at you in shock. If we weren’t fighting Death Eaters, I might have burst out laughing!” 

 

“Are you alright?” Hermione demands then, and Harriet nods in return. She carefully pulls away from Remus just enough to show them the shoulder Fenrir had latched onto. The skin has finished knitting itself back together and the only remaining sign that she’d been wounded at all is the ripped, bloody clothing. Her friend hesitantly brushes her fingertips across the patch of skin, which makes Harriet glance up at her warily, because Hermione’s always been loving and accepting of her in every way, and if she pulls away now, if she turns her back on Harriet now that she’s seen what she can do (what she can be like; what kind of monster she is) then Harriet might just break down and cry until she can’t breathe. 

 

And then Hermione’s drawing her into her own arms and hugging her as tightly as she dares, and Harriet just clings back because it’s okay now. Hermione isn’t leaving. Ron quickly joins the hug and that’s all it takes for the tears to start falling from Harriet’s green eyes. She can’t tell if they’re happy tears because her friends are safe or sad tears because of what she’s done but she lets them fall anyways. 

 

“We need to get back to the house,” Remus speaks up, hand back on Harriet’s shoulder. Suddenly she’s being scooped up into his arms and carried off, with her two best friends on either side. It’s like this that they return to the Burrow, where the rest of the Order still stand outside, gathering Death Eaters and victims alike. 

 

Molly’s the first to spot them and she rushes over, ushering the four of them into the house and towards the living room. Harriet’s gently lowered onto the couch where Molly methodically begins checking her for injuries, and then Remus is slipping back into the kitchen to brew her a mug of hot coffee. Harriet’s never been more thankful for him. 

 

“Potter!” Moody barks from the doorway, but Harriet’s too tired to jump. Her eyes do flash, however, and the glare on his face sours even further. “You want to explain what in Merlin’s name happened tonight??” 

 

Harriet grits her teeth and forces herself into a sitting position. Hermione, the closest, immediately places a supporting hand on her back. “I was under the impression that we were attacked by Death Eaters,” she replies dryly. She barely chokes back a sneer, though Moody’s not so reserved. She really, really only wants to have this conversation once, and she would rather it be when Dumbledore arrives--as he will no doubt be showing up soon.

 

“Don’t you give me lip, girl,” Moody snaps, and Harriet sighs. 

 

“Look, when Dumbledore gets here, then I’ll explain what--” 

 

“Explain what, my dear?” 

 

Ah, there he is. Harriet cranes her neck to peer up at Professor Dumbledore by the fireplace, and unfortunately (fortunately?) Professor Snape is right behind him. She opens her mouth to reply, but gets cut off when Remus appears and hands her the mug. She breathes her thanks and hurriedly sips at it. She nearly sags as the warmth flows through her, all the way down to her toes. 

 

“Are you sure, cub?” Remus asks quietly, because he knows how hard this is going to be. He’s been in her place, he gets it. He fully understands the risk of telling people that you’re not normal, you’re not what people would classify as ‘safe’, and it’s this compassion and worry in his amber eyes that reminds her why she adores the man so very much. She doesn’t know what she’d do without him, and she doesn’t want to think of it, either. 

 

So she smiles a small, fragile smile and drags in a deep breath of air and nods up at him, determined to be strong and brave like he always is. Pride flashes across his face and he takes a seat beside her, allowing her to lean against him for comfort. 

 

“Professor,” she glances at Dumbledore and takes another sip of coffee. “You might want to sit down.” The Headmaster obliges and lowers himself into the armchair across from her. Snape and Moody remain standing, but she merely shrugs and launches into the truth. “I was planning on keeping this a secret until… Well, until I finally fight Voldemort again, for the last time,” she admits first, fixedly gazing into her drink. “But, I decided that everyone’s safety here was more important than that. I hope you can understand my decision, because I don’t regret it.” 

 

She looks imploringly towards Dumbledore, the man she loves and admires and sees as a grandfatherly figure. He merely waits for her to continue, so she swallows thickly and does so. 

 

“I’m not human,” she tells him, “I’m what we consider a ghoul. I am not dead, like a corpse, though my body is in fact built differently than a human. I used to be human, however, and one day when I was six I was involved in an accident.” She pauses here, Remus’s arm around her shoulders tightening slightly, because this is both really difficult to confess and rather confusing to even understand. She frowns. “I can’t tell you where I went, or how I got there. But one day I woke up and I was lying on a makeshift hospital bed with a large, jagged incision running from my right hip up over my sternum. I was there, in that bed, for close to a week, I think. I was pretty heavily sedated and I don’t remember anything interesting happening aside from my meals.” 

 

Dumbledore has a dark look in his eyes, but he’s mercifully silent on the matter. Molly, however, flings her hands up to her mouth and gasps, “They performed surgery on you?!” 

 

Harriet nods slowly. “They replaced several of my organs with those of which belonged to another ghoul. Apparently, whatever had happened during my… Trip had left me physically damaged and in need of those new organs: my liver, left kidney and part of my stomach. The new organs began to change the physiology until the ghoul genetics, if you want to call them that, took over completely.” 

 

“What in blazes is a ghoul?” Moody growls. 

 

“Another race, or species, entirely separate from humans. They have stronger bodies, which heal worse wounds faster, and they have something that we call ‘kagune’. It’s actually another organ, which wasn’t surgically implanted in me, so from what I understand, when the ghoul part of me took over I grew my own.” She pauses and takes another long sip of coffee. “A kagune is a ghoul’s predatory organ. They can take on different shapes, though most originate from our back. I met one ghoul who had one up by his shoulder blade…” she shivers. “Anyways, it’s both our main defense and our offence.” 

 

Molly’s got tears in her eyes. There’s a long moment of silence, and then Dumbledore seemingly shakes himself from his stupor. “May I see?” 

 

Harriet blinks in surprise, then smiles ruefully at him. “You sure you won’t lose your lunch?” She asks sardonically, but before he can reply she closes her eyes and lifts that cold veil once more. She has to scoot forward a bit, so her kagune doesn’t punch a hole into the couch cushions, although she only allows one arm to appear. She can feel the others teeming just under her skin in her lower back, and her jaw clenches from the effort of holding them all back.

 

“Open your eyes.” Snape’s voice startles her a bit, but she doesn’t lose her grip on the rest of her kagune, something of which she finds herself very proud. After a moment of hesitation, she complies, allowing the group to see the black scleras and blood red irises. Dumbledore appears riveted to his seat, although she can’t smell much fear around him. She quickly lifts her coffee to her nose to block out any other scents; she doesn’t think she’s ready to handle any rejection from the other Professor. 

 

“...Thank you. You may return to.. Your original form,” Dumbledore almost trips over the proper terms and she can’t help but smile. 

 

“You can call it the normal form,” she says, pulling her kagune back in. She takes another long sip from the mug and then grimaces when she empties it. Remus chuckles and takes it back, heading into the kitchen for another. 

 

Dumbledore watches the exchange almost… Eagerly. Or maybe it was cheery? “I take it that Remus already knew?” He inquires. Oh.

 

Harriet flashes a shy smile at him. “Um, yes, sir. He found out--well, I told him, rather--at the end of third year. When I heard he wanted to resign, I ran off to convince him otherwise. Turns out that revealing myself to him worked rather well.”

 

“Blackmail, is what it was,” comes Remus’ dry comment from the kitchen. Harriet finds herself rolling her eyes as he returns, though she gratefully cradles the warm cup he offers. 

 

“Harriet, perhaps you shouldn’t be drinking so much coffee this late,” Molly suggests, “you look like you could use a good two days of rest, at least.” 

 

Harriet tries to hide her bittersweet smile behind her coffee, but she catches a glimpse of Hermione’s lips pressing together into a thin line and winces. “Mrs. Weasley, I appreciate that, but coffee is the only human food I’m able to digest. Anything else makes me ill. For me… Coffee has close to the same effect that chocolate does for wizards.” 

 

Moody straightened up at this revelation. “Your diets are different, then? What do ghouls eat?” 

 

Harriet’s mouth twists. She takes a moment to steel her nerves before answering, knowing the general response is going to be rather unpleasant. She deliberates for a minute, then two, until she decides to just be blunt and get it all over with. “Human flesh,” she croaks, then drinks more coffee. Molly lets out a sort of strangled noise. “There are blood supplement pills that we can take--” 

 

“ _ You ghouls eat human flesh?! _ ” Moody nearly bellows. Harriet instinctively bares her teeth at the man, back going stiff. Beside her, Remus is glaring furiously at the Auror. 

 

“I do not go around killing people for food,” she snarls back, “Nor do I ever plan to do such a thing. Like I was saying, there are blood pellets that I can mix in with coffee, and there are a few places I can acquire food. If prepared correctly, pig meat is similar enough to human meat that I can digest it. That is the foundation of my normal diet.” 

 

Dumbledore clears his throat to draw her attention back to him. He subtly shoots Moody a look, who scowls but allows the Headmaster to take over the conversation. Dumbledore eyes Harriet calculatingly. “You said you were the one to convince Remus to stay at Hogwarts for the next year?” 

 

Harriet nods. “I told him that if I was able to go to Hogwarts, then he should too.” 

 

“Blackmail,” Remus mutters again. Harriet huffs. 

 

Dumbledore’s eyebrow raises, clearly wanting an explanation. Harriet swishes a mouthful of coffee around in her mouth a bit before speaking again. “He was under the impression that it would be much better for him to leave, in order to keep the students safe, even if he actually liked teaching. ‘Better to suffer than to hurt others’, and all that.” 

 

“Quite,” he replies amusedly, while Remus glowers halfheartedly at his goddaughter. 

 

“So I argued that, firstly, he’s the best teacher my year had ever had, and who knows how many years it had been for others since the last competent teacher. Then I pointed out that nearly all of the student body adored him because not only did he know what he was doing, but he also knew how to get the students to understand and apply what they learned.  _ Then  _ I flat out told him that he had nothing to be ashamed of, and that I was proud to know someone as strong as him, and that I thought he was a brilliant influence on the students because of it.” 

 

She meets Dumbledore’s gaze head on, ignoring the way everyone else is openly staring at her in shock. “And what made you draw such a conclusion?” He asks her, not in a chiding or resentful tone, but simply… Curious. 

 

Harriet knows that her eyes are stormy and her face is cold like the statues at Hogwarts, but she doesn’t waver. Instead, she merely squares her shoulders and turns that same, bitter smile onto him. “Why should I apologize for being a monster? No one ever apologized for making me this way.” 

 

The twinkle in the Headmaster’s eyes disappears, but she doesn’t regret her words. “My dear,” he says softly, “You are by no means a monster. You have a very unfortunate condition, yes, but you fight valiantly against the darker sides of you and prevail. You learned to use that condition to help and protect those close to your heart. The only things monstrous about that, is the amount of strength that takes, and the level of which you care for them. And those are both monstrously good things.” 

 

Harriet sits there, curled up on the couch and against Remus’ side, and she’s absolutely stunned. It must show on her face, because Hermione pipes up with tears in her hazel eyes, “He’s right, Harry. It’s obvious to anyone with a working pair of eyes that everything you’ve done is either for your friends and family, or for the innocent people who often get dragged into this whole mess. How could we hate you for that?” 

 

Ron murmurs his agreement. “Besides, I think it’s kind of cool, in a way. You have a strength no one else has, and that allows you a better chance against Voldemort. I mean, even if he now knows about it, it’s not like he can copy it, can he? And he won’t know anything about it, either, so he likely won’t know how to counter it more than hiding behind a magical barrier.” 

 

“Well said, Mr Weasley, Miss Granger,” Dumbledore chuckles. When Harriet doesn’t offer anything else, he sighs and gets to his feet. “Well. That was a very informative meeting, and I appreciate you telling me, my dear. But now I must lend my assistance to the rest of the Order, who no doubt will be up for the rest of the night cleaning up the mess.” 

 

Harriet flushes and drops her gaze, clutching the mug in shame. “I’m sorry, sir,” she whispers. Dumbledore takes on a mildly surprised expression. 

 

“Whatever for?” 

 

Moody snorts loudly, although it might have been a scoff. “You’ll see when you get there, Albus.”

 

Harriet watches the two men leave, feeling more and more drained by the second. The exhaustion from before is quickly catching up on her and she thinks she might fall asleep at any moment, so she turns to the one who stayed behind. “Is there something else you wish to know?” She asks Snape, blearily trying to focus on his face. Blimey, she’s tired. 

 

Snape stares at her, face unreadable, but she’s too tired to get uncomfortable. So she just leans further into Remus’ side and waits for the Professor to gather his thoughts, hoping she doesn’t fall asleep before then. Snape clears his throat. “Your wound from Fenrir,” he says, and she understands without him needing to say anything else but lets him finish anyways. “Is it fully healed, or are you now..?” 

 

She smiles up at him, noting how he appears rather taken aback by it. “Lycanthropy doesn’t work on animals, Professor. I’m not a human, so I fall under the ‘beast’ category, and therefore am not susceptible to those kinds of curses. So, no, I--” She’s interrupted by a yawn. “I’m not a werewolf.” 

 

“Come on, cub, time for bed,” Remus sighs, taking the mug from her. Molly silently offers to bring it to the kitchen, and Remus reaches down and picks Harriet back up into his arms. She lets out a quiet giggle. 

 

“Thanks, Uncle Moony,” she sighs, eyelids drooping shut. Remus chuckles and turns towards the stairs, and the last thing Harriet sees that night is the odd look on Professor Snape’s face. But then she’s falling asleep, and the thought doesn’t linger.

**Author's Note:**

> I.. Think I came up with this during a car ride? I was snapchatting my friend and out of nowhere I was like, "Yo, what if Harry just decided that he'd had enough shit, and instead of running during the wedding in book seven, he just took them all out" Also brief Remus feels because we all need more of those in our lives..
> 
> I have no idea where Fem!Harry came from, though. It just sort of happened? It's a oneshot people does it really even need to make sense


End file.
